Much Ado About Something
by Ponytales
Summary: Minister Whitehall's recently divorced daughter is on the prowl again. She's decided she wants her third husband to have a title and Sir James Lester has no other option than to fight fire with fire. Spoilers for series 1-3. Sequel: "Annoyance Squared".
1. Chapter 1

Title: Much Ado About Something 1/3

Summery: The Home Secretary's recently divorced daughter is on the prowl again. She's decided she wants her third husband to have a title and Sir James Lester has no other option than to fight fire with fire.

Spoilers for series 1-3.

Rating: T and M in chapter 2.

Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval

Words: 4,966

A/N: This plot bunny hopped into my brain and I had to get it out. I'd like to thank the lovely Fredbassett for beta'ing this for me. All remaining mistakes are totally my own.

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James Lester paced around his flat and glared at the innocuous theatre tickets that were lying on the counter. One of the Diictodons barreled into the room and butted up against his shin. He glanced down at the little green animal that he'd inherited.

"What do you want?" he asked crossly. Sid bounced off his leg with more enthusiasm. "I've already fed you once!" The terrier-sized creature wasn't appeased. James cursed and went into the kitchen. "You're spoilt," he grumbled at the silly creature.

Sid very pointedly watched while James start to pour more mixed vegetables into their food bowls before he started the particular trilling that meant dinner was served, again. It drew Nancy out from whatever hole she was digging.

James watched them eating like they hadn't already demolished a pile of food two hours ago when he'd got home from work and realized he was delaying the inevitable.

The theatre tickets. Blasted, bloody theatre tickets.

Robert Jackson, the Home Secretary, and ultimately the person who Lester had to answer to, had given him one ticket after a meeting this afternoon along with an invitation to watch the premiere of 'Much Ado About Nothing' with his family. His family included his daughter Angelica. Twice divorced Angelica. Social climbing Angelica. Rumor had it that husband number one had been dropped for being in a dead end field and husband number two failed to be promoted fast enough. Man-eating Angelica.

Now she'd decided to skip straight to the top and had her eyes set squarely on Sir James Lester. Naturally, the Home Secretary hadn't said any of that when he'd issued the ticket and the invitation, hell, he was probably clueless to his daughter's designs. He had a blind spot when it came to the wench.

Robert Jackson doted on her. She was nearly forty and he still called her pumpkin. James had known, though, as soon as Jackson - his bloody boss - had asked him to join them on Friday night. He had dodged Angelica before, just before she'd met husband number one and again just before she'd wrangled husband number two. It was like dodging a particularly scary bullet.

On the surface both of her previous... victims... had looked as if they were going to be the next bright shining star of the civil service. After a few years it had become apparent that they weren't and she'd discarded them for someone better. The woman wanted a powerful man and when her doting father gave out a social invitation for only three days away, it was really clear that it wasn't his idea to begin with.

He knew how the social scene went. Caroline Jackson threw elaborate dinner parties and holiday parties and he had always received his invitation months in advance. Three days notice? This wasn't either of the more senior family member's idea.

James was wishing now that he'd turned him flat down instead of making up that stupid lie. How was he supposed to know that it was for a box? He thought back to the moment in the Minister's office when he'd very politely declined the theatre invitation with what he'd thought was the perfect excuse.

"I'm dreadfully sorry but I'm seeing someone and she's been pestering me to take her to that very play. If I see it on the opening night before her then it will cause all manner of drama." Perfect excuse right? How the hell was he supposed to know it was for a box and not just a single extra ticket?

Jackson had assured him it was fine for him to bring a date and he'd have another ticket to _his bloody box_ sent around before the day was out. Bloody hell. So now he had to turn up with a date. Not just any date either. He knew what he had to do if he was going to survive this without risking losing his job or his bachelorhood. Bloody, bloody hell.

James was a bureaucrat with a gift. He knew he was going to have to fight fire with fire. He poured himself a stiff drink and contemplated his enemy, Angelica Jackson. He had first been introduced to her at the Jackson's Christmas party about fifteen years ago. Angelica was just getting out of school then and he was starting to really be moved up the civil service ladder.

She had chatted to him during the party for a while before being distracted by a slightly more handsome man who was making big noises about software and microchips. He had some theory about miniaturization that hadn't panned out before those American companies had taken over the computer scene.

When her first husband crashed and burned she dumped him and set out after number two. James tried to avoid her but the social circle they ran in was very small and he could tell she was trying to make a play for him. Even if she hadn't been his boss's daughter he wouldn't have had anything to do with her.

From her bleached-blonde hair to her pouty, botoxed face her whole life was dedicated to digging her claws into a rich powerful man and he had the misfortune to fit the description. She'd probably gotten her latest divorce petition and made a list of all the men she could chase at the same time. Single. No kids. Rich. Powerful. Title. It was probably a short list and unfortunately, his name was right at the top.

There were only two possible women he could take with him that might possibly succeed in running Angelica off without him being sacked for offending the boss's spoiled daughter. He couldn't decide which was the worse option.

Jenny Lewis could do it. She could pull it off, forceful woman that she was. If he showed up with Jenny on his arm then Angelica would have to move on to the next man on her list. The extreme downside was that he'd have to call Jenny.

She'd ask how the team was and he'd have to tell her that Sarah was dead. They had buried her in the same cemetery as Stephen and Cutter. Connor, Abby and Danny were lost through the anomalies into the world inhabited by the future predators and were probably dead.

The ARC had been shut down. All the creatures with the exception of the pets he had at his flat had been moved to a private research facility and he had no idea or way of finding out if they were even still alive.

The only one left was Captain Becker and his way of dealing with his survivor's guilt was to request and receive a six month combat tour in Afghanistan. Now he was chasing insurgents instead of dinosaurs which was probably safer.

James had argued against all of that but his opinion at that juncture had carried very little weight. Now he was supervising a project to predict solar flares and using the atmospheric interference to hack spy satellites. No, calling Jenny was out of the question and that left the only other woman he knew that could possibly back Angelica off. If she didn't just laugh herself hysterical first.

He picked up his phone and looked at it. He had her number in his contacts, so if she ever called him he would know. He had never actually dialed it. If only he could call Jenny!

Before he could talk himself out of it he hit dial. After it rang twice he started to be hopeful that she wouldn't answer. He'd barely had that thought before she did answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Christine. It's James Lester."

"Yes?" The last time he had seen her was during her abortive attempt to take back the mysterious woman Quinn had kidnapped. The woman, who had turned out to be Helen, had turned the tables and taken her hostage, then kicked her out of the truck as soon as she was clear of the ARC. Becker's men had found her cursing by the side of the road and picked her up.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you?" Damn his nerves!

She sounded amused. "You're talking to me now, James."

"I mean in person."

"So call my office, make an appointment." She clearly did not grasp the gravity of the situation.

He winced. "It's personal. I mean, can I come to talk to you tonight?"

There was silence for a moment. "I confess I'm intrigued." She named a little Italian place that wasn't that far away. "I haven't had dinner yet, you can meet me there if you like."

"This won't take long, I just have to, oh damn, it's complicated." He cursed as he fumbled for the words.

She _laughed_ at him.

"So I'll see you there then?"

"Yes."

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She was already there when he arrived. He spotted her at a table waiting for him when he walked in. James actually looked past her then back again. She had her hair down, and was wearing a simple green dress with muted splashes of blue and purple across it. It was such a far cry from the severe business suits he normally saw her in that if she hadn't looked at him, he wouldn't have known it was her.

He tried to pretend he'd recognized her right away and slid in across from her.

"James." She greeted him with that little smile. The smile he had learned to be highly suspicious of. The smile that said she knew something he didn't and he was going to be ever so cross when she finally let him find out. "It's been a while. Two months almost."

"Christine." Damn but he was uncomfortable. "Yes. It has."

The waitress coming by to take their drinks order interrupted their stilted conversation. Calmly, without a trace of nerves or tension, Christine ordered a glass of wine. James ordered a soda and wished he could have a stout shot of scotch to go with it right about now.

She waited until the waitress left before she asked her question. "What's all this about? I heard that they closed the ARC. I thought that was a very poor decision."

"Yes, it was," he agreed with her instantly. It wasn't like the anomalies were just going to stop happening.

She seemed to be waiting for something. "So...?"

"So what?"

She rolled her eyes. "So why do you want to speak to me in person?"

He looked everywhere but at her. "It's awkward, but if you help me I'll owe you a big favor."

She seemed interested. "How big?"

"Huge. Enormous." He couldn't believe he was actually going to do this.

"What's going on?"

James actually bit his lip before he started speaking. "Do you know Angelica Jackson?"

"I've had the pleasure." Suddenly it was clear that Christine had a vague idea of where this was going. "Why exactly? Don't tell me you have the bad sense to date that woman. I always thought you were smarter than that!"

"I am smarter than that!" James snapped, "She's after me and I've got myself in some trouble." He explained about the theatre tickets and the lie he had told his boss. They had placed their dinner orders before he had finished explaining it all. She had the sheer gall to laugh at him **again** when he finished fumbling his way through it.

Annoyed, James said, "Fine then, don't help me. I'll just tell him I've got flu or something." That would only delay the inevitable. Angelica would find some other reason to corner him and he would have to be blunt with her and then she'd cry to her daddy and then he'd get sacked-

"James, are you seriously asking me - me who tried and succeeded to get you thrown out of your own project - to pretend to be your girlfriend?"

He said sharply, "You only succeeded for a day and I haven't got anyone else." Damn, here came the sucking up. "You've met Angelica. You know what she's like. The only way I'm going to get her away from me is if someone scarier than she is convinces her I'm taken."

"_I'm_ scary? You want me to convince her that my claws are sunk into you? It'll never work. Her daddy will never believe it."

"He will if we convince him that our feuding was just unresolved sexual tension," James countered. He had actually thought about this on the drive over.

"No, I mean he won't believe it because you can't do it." She reached across the table and stroked his hand for a second. Shocked, he jumped a little and pulled back from her. "See? You'd never act like that if we were really dating. Anyone could look at us and see we're not dating."

"You startled me, that's all," he denied it and let his competitive side rise to the surface. He demanded, "Do it again."

Her lips twitched up in what might have been a tiny smile, but she reached out again and took his hand. He remained impassive. She rolled her thumb over the back of his hand and gently caressed it.

"It's not going to work. You're still tense, and you're not reaching for me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"If we were really together then you wouldn't just let me fondle your hand, you'd reach for me as well. Haven't you ever had a girlfriend?"

"I've had girlfriends!" he defended himself with a bit more vigor than necessary to cover up that she was right. About not reaching for her, not about having girlfriends. He'd dated before. He'd even been married. True, that had ended in a nasty divorce five years ago but it wasn't like he was fumbling teenager.

"James, I've spent my whole life in MI6. I know how to go undercover as someone's significant other and I'm telling you that even if I did help you, you'd give it away."

"Please, Christine," he nearly begged. "I'm out of options here."

She thought about it. "Unless..."

"Unless what? I'll do almost anything if you help me get Angelica off my back." He was well aware he could really regret that offer but he couldn't think of anything worse that Angelica at that particular moment.

She looked him dead in the eye. "If they ever restart the ARC then you hire me to work there."

That wasn't what he was expecting. "What? I highly doubt they'll do that, and if they do my entire team was killed or lost. I won't be in charge."

"Yes, you will. I killed a lot more people than you did researching the anomalies, that won't be a factor." She looked deadly serious. "That's my price. I want your word that when it starts again I'm a part of it."

That was it. His deal with the chestnut-haired devil. They were never going to let him near any anomaly project in the future. What the hell. "Agreed."

Christine grinned. "Now we have to practice."

"Okay. What did you have in mind?"

"Tell me about yourself. Things a girlfriend would know. What side of the bed do you sleep on?"

He sputtered and nearly snorted soda out of his nose. "I doubt that's going to come up in conversation!"

"You never know. Fine, we'll play twenty questions. How many brothers and sisters do you have?"

That was a much better topic. "Two. One older brother that lives in Hong Kong and a sister that lives in Surrey with her husband and two kids."

"Do they have names?"

He demurred. "I believe it's my turn to ask the next question, if my memory of this childish game is accurate. How many and what are the names of your siblings?"

Christine arched an eyebrow at him but conceded the point. "None. Only child."

"That will be easy enough to remember. My brother's name is Max, he's divorced and my sister is Heather, her husband's name is Louie and the kids are John and Michael. John's twelve and Michael is nine. Your turn."

She pondered her next question briefly. "Do you dance?"

"I haven't in a long time but it has been known to happen." That was out of the blue. "Where did you grow up?"

"All over the world. My parents were both career diplomats. I went to thirty-one different schools before university."

"Where do they live now? Oh sorry, it's your turn."

She stayed on the same family theme. "What about your parents?"

"My father passed away some years ago and I lost my mother two years ago."

Christine nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. I lost my own parents not that long ago." She seemed to get morose for a second before shaking it off and searching for a complete change of topic. "Were you surprised by the results of the last election?"

James raised an eyebrow at her potentially controversial question and smoothly replied, "Not at all, anyone who had been paying attention..."

It was almost ridiculous how easily they segued into casual chatter about politics and world events. They actually held nearly the same views on most major topics. She was clever, which he already knew, but she had a good sense of humor and even cracked a joke about herself doing the Walk of Shame out of the ARC. James was surprised by how much time had passed when the waiter came around again and asked if they had saved room for dessert.

He turned the waiter down and Christine followed suit. "Here's your bill then, there's no rush at all." The waiter said as he laid the bill on the table, at James's elbow.

Christine smirked at him from across the table. "We can start that fake dating now with you picking up the tab." Her eyes danced with mirth at him.

"Asking him to split it would only ruin the mood."

James didn't argue with her, it wasn't that much money anyway. "Naturally." He laid enough cash on the table to cover the bill along with a generous tip. "So I'll pick you up on Friday, then?"

"Not so fast." Christine gathered up her purse as she stood up. "We've got to start a lot sooner than that."

"What?"

She sighed at him for being such a typically obtuse male. "I'll show you when we're outside."

Unsure of her intentions, he trailed behind her out of the little restaurant. "What are you talking about?"

The cool night air swirled around them as she led him a little way away from the entrance towards the car park. "You've got to come over to my house, and I've got to come over yours and spend a bit of time there."

Confused, he asked, "Why?"

Christine rolled her eyes like he had just said something really daft, "James, you are a grown man. If we were really dating then I would have spent lots of time at your house." She grinned. "Are you certain you've had girlfriends before? You don't seem to understand how this goes."

"I've had girlfriends!" He glanced about to make sure no one was about to hear this insane conversation. "I didn't think it was going to be this complicated to fake a date."

"I can fake a date just fine."

James was tempted to ask what else she had experience of faking but he bit the words back.

She spoke hastily to cut him off before he could frame the question. "You're the one who's stiff as a board."

To prove it, she leaned into his personal space and slid her arm up his shoulder, just one move away from pulling his head down for a kiss. He stiffened up briefly.

"I might describe you as frigid..."

The baleful look he shot her did nothing to suppress her amusement. "James, just trust me. Jackson hates my guts in no small part because of you. If we do this then it has to work. I'll be in just as much trouble as you will be if any of them work this out."

He didn't bother pointing out that the words that came out of her mouth were entirely her own fault. She continued, "You have to relax. I'll come over tomorrow night and we'll spend some time together. If you stiffen up when our hands brush then even if Jackson doesn't notice, I guarantee that Angelica will."

It did make sense. "Fine. Tomorrow night." He sighed and looked around. "Where's your car?"

"I walked. I live a few blocks that way." She pointed vaguely down the road. The dark and not all that well lit road. He vetoed that idea right away.

"You've been drinking. Let me drive you home."

"It's not that far. I walk when I eat and drink here all the time." Playfully she swatted at his arm. "I'll be fine."

James looked her up and down. She looked completely stunning in that casual sundress and there was no way he was going to let her walk the dark streets back to her house. "It would completely ruin my plans if your luck runs out tonight," he said gruffly and took out his car keys. "I need to see where you live, anyway."

"Oh James, I didn't know you cared," she teased him while he actually opened the door for her to slide into his car.

He merely ignored her teasing, while he could. He had a sinking feeling she was going to enjoy the charade entirely too much.

She had been telling the truth about how close she lived. Four blocks down the road she directed him into a tidy little neighbourhood. This close to London the plots weren't huge but each house had a high stone wall at the back and a waist high, decorative wrought iron fence at the front. It was posh, but he hadn't expected her to live in anything else.

He pulled up in the driveway she pointed to, the house at the very end. "Thanks for the lift." Christine touched his arm and he jumped slightly. "James, I think this is going to be harder than I thought. I think you ought to come in for a while."

"Why?"

"Because you need some serious desensitising to being touched!"

He whipped his head around and looked at her like she had said she was going to molest him.

"I am seriously getting skeptical about your claims to previous girlfriends. Are you certain you don't bat for the other team? Was your ex-wife a cover?"

Outraged, he tried to deny it. "I-"

But she didn't let him and ploughed right over his objections. "It's okay if you do. Nobody cares any more," Christine tried to reassure him with a wicked grin. "I'm not going to touch you _there_." He gasped and she ignored it. "Come in and have a cup of tea with me."

For emphasis, she touched his arm again and he jumped even more. "James, you can't fake being my boyfriend if you don't relax."

Christine picked up her bag and opened her door, "Are you coming?"

He felt all his arguments collapse against the simple fact she was right. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel and said a brief prayer. Then something occurred to him. "Wait a minute," He got out and caught up with her, "You're faking being my girlfriend!"

She snorted as she unlocked her front door. "James, you're lucky to be fake-dating me."

He tried desperately to think of a come-back to that and ended up just making a strangled noise. She rolled her eyes and walked into the house, flipping lights on as she went. He looked around and took in the tidy surroundings. The front door opened up into a large living room/kitchen with only a bar separating them.

The whole place was decorated in earth tones, with cushions on the sofa and paintings on the walls in bright vivid colors for contrast. He felt comfortable immediately and then felt uncomfortable that he felt comfortable. Maybe she was right and that made him feel even more uneasy. He hated it when she was right.

Speaking of uneasy, while he had been checking out the room she was in the kitchen filling a bright blue kettle with water. "Do you have a preference for tea?"

"No, I'm not fussy. Whatever you have." He walked over and looked around her kitchen.

"Are you sure?" She tossed him an impish smile and flipped open a cupboard to reveal at least twenty different boxes of tea.

"Good grief," he said dumbly and cocked an eyebrow at her. "The supermarket doesn't have that much tea."

She shrugged. "I like a little variety."

"I don't care," James repeated and leaned against the counter. "What's your grand plan?"

"Easy. Simple. You said you dance. We'll dance."

"Dance?"

"Dance."

They chatted while waiting for the water to boil. He found out that she had been living there for nearly ten years. She only managed to get him to admit his last girlfriend had 'been a while back.' James had the sinking feeling that she would laugh at him some more if he admitted to not having had a date in the five years since his marriage disintegrated.

The whistling of the kettle interrupted their conversation. He watched as she deftly poured them both a cup of tea.

"Do you take anything with it? I have milk or honey," Christine offered.

The sheer oddness of sharing a late night cup of tea with his arch-enemy was keeping him off balance. Her basic civility was doing more to keep him from relaxing than her more usual behaviour of trying to screw up his life. "No thank you."

"Ready to dance?" she inquired while they waited for the tea to cool.

"As ready as I'm ever going to be." He felt more like he was going to his execution.

She blinked at him a few times before narrowing her eyes. "Rule one, shoes off."

"Why?"

"Because then you might relax a little." She kicked her own shoes off and left them lying near the couch on her way to the little stereo that was set up near the television. There was a tiny MP3 player hooked up to it.

James sighed in defeat and plopped down on the sofa to take his shoes off. His head shot up at the rap music that filled the air. Christine was bobbing her head along with it thoughtfully before noticing the look of terror on his face. She clicked to the next song. "That's a bit advanced for you..."

The next few songs on her play list didn't please her either. Finally she settled on something that wasn't a slow dance, but it wasn't fast enough to require any fancy footwork either. He was still sitting on the sofa.

"Come over here. You can't dance sitting down."

With about as much enthusiasm as a man going to his own funeral, he heaved himself up and walked over to where she waiting for him in the middle of the room.

She said with exaggerated patience, "Now to dance, you have to touch me."

Gruffly, he replied, "I know."

He reached out and very stiffly rested his hand on her hip while taking her other hand in his. They moved about two steps before she did a little wiggle so that his lower hand slid around to the small of her back. He raised an eyebrow but went with it.

She obviously liked to dance. He had to step up and lead or she would take over. That helped take care of some of his stiffness. It was the one time he got to be the boss without her crossing him. If he was being honest with himself -which he wasn't - he would admit that it did feel a bit nice to have a woman in his arms again, even if it was only for a ruse. As it was, he blamed his relaxation on the late hour.

They spun and twirled though a half a dozen songs before she pronounced him relaxed enough to leave. "I'm coming over to your house tomorrow night," Christine informed him while he was putting his shoes back on.

"Are we going to dance again?"

"No. We've got to do something else. You could make me dinner and we could watch a movie," she suggested slyly, probably to see his reaction.

He retorted instantly, "Or we could order takeaway." He wasn't cooking for her. No, no, no.

"Fine, then takeaway. I like Chinese."

"Any other special requests?"

"Not really. Just do whatever you would normally do if your girlfriend was coming over."

"Fine. Easy enough." Especially considering he could skip a few steps. Step one to be skipped, washing the sheets with lots of fabric softener. Step two to be skipped, dowsing the whole place in air freshener... this would be easy.

She had a very playful look in her eyes as she let him out of the door. If he didn't know better he would assume that she was planning something. What the hell was he thinking? He did know better. She was planning something. She was always planning something. He wondered what it could possibly be as he drove home.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Much Ado About Something 2/3

Summery: The Home Secretary's recently divorced daughter is on the prowl again. She's decided she wants her third husband to have a title and Sir James Lester has no other option than to fight fire with fire.

Spoilers for series 1-3.

Words: 4,946

Rating: T and M in chapter 2.

Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval

**A/N:** This plot bunny hopped into my brain and I had to get it out.

I'd like to thank the lovely Fredbassett for beta'ing this for me. All remaining mistakes are totally my own.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** This chapter is a mild M. Don't read if that offends you.

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James actually ducked out of work a few minutes early to prepare for his visitor's arrival. He cleaned out the diictodon's sandbox. He vacuumed and swept and he couldn't resist spritzing a little air freshener around to cover up the musty smell of reptiles. He was normally a very tidy person anyway so there wasn't all that much to do but he still had to fuss about something. _**She**_ was coming over.

_**She **_didn't even have the courtesy to call him before she turned up on his doorstep. He didn't even bother to ask how she knew where he lived. He probably didn't want to know.

She was smiling at him when he opened the door. "Miss me?" Christine Johnson teased him as she walked inside. "Nice place."

Any other comments she might have made were cut off by Rex swooping into the room and landing on one of the perches James had installed near the ceiling when he'd got tired of Rex landing on _him _for want of a better landing site_. _She gawked at him for a moment and James cursed himself for not remembering to lock the dratted lizard up with the other two.

"You kept Rex?" She was at once shocked and delighted as the lizard trilled curiously down at her. "He's beautiful!"

James was surprised. "I never had you pegged for a lizard girl."

"I'm not, really." Christine moved until she was close enough to reach up and scratch Rex's head. For a prehistoric creature he could be quite an attention whore. He chirped happily and jumped down onto her shoulder. She held very still as he investigated her hair, still trilling and chirping. "There's an actual dinosaur sitting on me." The awe in her tone and expression conveyed exactly how gobsmacked she was to have a flying reptile nosing through her hair. James suddenly understood why she wanted into the ARC project so badly. He softened towards her, just a little. Then he remembered how incredibly ruthless she was and he made a concentrated effort to focus on the fact that her cut-throat nature was why she was currently in his home.

He forced himself to relax again.

"Amazing isn't it? He does tend to grow on you."

Loud chuffing and grunting from down the hall interrupted them. Sid and Nancy so hated to be confined when they knew he was home. Christine tossed him a truly inscrutable look and headed down the hallway towards the noises before he could stop her. He groaned loudly and followed her. Rex bobbed his head happily from her shoulder.

"Look at the playroom!" she exclaimed as she reached the source of the noise. Sid and Nancy were headbutting the steel baby-gate he had set up to keep them confined. **Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Grunt! Thunk! Whistle! Thunk!** He'd got used to ignoring their ploys for attention and had forgotten how noisy they could be.

Christine was leaning over the gate, examining them. "What are these little fellows?"

Rex leapt off her shoulder into the 'playroom' and scampered up the logs and branches were hanging from the ceiling.

"They're Diictodons," he told her gruffly. "My personal annoyance. That one's Sid and the other is Nancy." James reached past her and opened up the baby gate.

They bolted out into the hallway while she knelt down and proceeded to treat them like a couple of puppies. That was exactly how they were used to being treated so they got along. James rolled his eyes and was just happy they weren't bothering him right now.

"How many creatures did you keep away from that corporation?" she asked as she tickled Nancy's back. "And does your management company know that you've grown a small jungle in here?"

"It's not a small jungle," he said crossly. "It was self defense. They're burrowers." It really wasn't a small jungle. He had merely built a wooden frame about four feet high and filled it with dirt. There was just enough room for him to walk around the edge of the bedroom. He had laid thick plastic down to protect the floor and then laid thin sheets of steel flashing on top of that to keep them from going through the floor and giving his downstairs neighbour a heart attack.

He had put some plants in just so it didn't look so very ugly. The ferns were coming along nicely. There were also a few logs and things, just so they had something to play around to stop them bothering him all the time or digging through the walls. He hadn't approved all those purchase orders for toys and things for the creatures without learning that all animals had to be entertained or they would make their own entertainment, usually to his annoyance. Abby had succeeded in teaching him that at least in her brief time in his life.

Christine finally stood up and really checked out his creature room. He had got decorative metal fencing and bolted it up against the walls so they couldn't burrow out of this room. There were special lights installed in the ceiling so that the light in this room was brighter and whiter than in the hallway. It wasn't the reptile house at the zoo but he had managed an approximate equivalent, without the management company finding out.

"I never had you pegged for owning a sentimental side, James." She grinned at him like she had just discovered his deepest, darkest secret, which maybe she had.

He tried to brush it off. "They're pets. I really didn't see that the corporation could have had any particular use for them. They would have been miserable penned up like zoo animals." He gestured to them. "You can see that they're used to people. Connor had spoiled them rotten before I got them."

Nancy had rolled over and Christine started to scratch her belly like a dog.

"So you say," she teased him.

Sid started his usual butting up against his shin for food. That diictodon was a bottomless pit sometimes. James gave up ignoring him and went into the kitchen to feed them, again.

Christine followed him, and Rex flew past them and landed on the counter. Thank heaven Abby had managed to somehow housetrain him before she'd vanished, otherwise he most certainly wouldn't be allowed to fly over everything in the house.

"It's feeding time at the zoo," James joked weakly as he pulled out some fresh fruit and the chopping board. Connor had been very firm on how much better fresh fruit was for them than tinned. His exact words had been, "Abby would kill me if I gave them tinned fruit! You want me to be able to move back in with her someday, yeah?"

Thinking about that was depressing. He drew his attention back to the present. "Do you want to order the takeaway? I haven't yet."

"Sure," she agreed.

He pulled a stack of takeaway menus out of a drawer and set them on the counter. "Take your pick."

She looked at the fairly large stack. There was a menu for every restaurant that delivered in his area. "I see you order in often?"

"All the time. With just me here there's not much point in cooking," he said and then wondered why he'd told her that. It's not like that mattered at all.

Christine didn't answer him. Instead, she flipped through until she had isolated three Chinese menus and picked out the one she liked the best. "Any preferences?"

He looked over from where he was dicing up some fruit. "Get me the number thirty seven, and an extra order of egg rolls."

"Okay." She dialed the number. "Do you have cash?"

He rolled his eyes. "I'm paying again? Yes."

She ignored him while she placed the order.

James roughly chopped up some mangos and apples for Connor's pets. He dumped them in their bowls and added some salad mix and vegetables on top. The two diictodons bolted their food. To watch them eat it was hard to believe that they'd eaten just a few hours ago. Rex picked out all the fruit first, then the carrots, then the celery and then ate the lettuce. It took him four times longer to eat than the other two.

"We have to keep an eye on them," James told Christine while he wiped the counter top. "I can't line my whole house with metal fencing and they'll chew through the walls or floors if they get bored."

"All right. I'll help you keep an eye on your babies."

"They are not my babies," he objected strongly.

She tossed him a look that said otherwise but then elected to change the subject. "What film are we watching?"

"I don't know. I thought you would bring one," he replied as she went into the living room. He could tell just from her stance that by leaving the choice of film up to her, he had managed to annoy her. Didn't women like to pick the film? Apparently not.

"James, what would you have planned if I really was your girlfriend? Seriously, use your imagination."

"I imagine if you were really my girlfriend we could just sit on the sofa and watch TV." Not everything had to be a structured romantic moment! That sort of thinking could possibly be why he'd made a mess of things so often with woman.

"Fine then." She sat in the middle of the sofa and waited for him to sit down.

He thought it was a bit odd that she'd chosen the middle but he obligingly sat on her left and picked up the remote. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye for a moment before moving closer to him.

"What are you doing?" James asked, slightly worried as she started shuffling him around. She had shifted his arm up to the back of the couch and was now lying firmly against his body.

"Getting comfortable. We still have to work on your jumpiness." Christine put her feet up on the couch striking what was presumably meant to be a normal girlfriend pose.

He went as stiff as a board for a second before he forced himself to relax.

"Act normal," she cajoled.

He gave her a highly skeptical look but turned the television on. He flipped to the channel guide and paged down, not seeing anything he wanted to watch.

She did though! "Ohh, go back. A Fish Called Wanda is on."

James thought about protesting, but if truth be told he rather liked that film. He turned to it and they waited for the food to arrive. The Diictodons were barreling around the flat, playing tag with each other. Rex had settled on top of the screen and was flicking his tail in time to the noise from the television.

When the food arrived, he paid the delivery man and they ate in the living room off the coffee table, like normal people that were watching a movie. When she was done, she leaned back against him, ignoring the brief tensing in his body before he relaxed again.

When he was paying attention to the film he relaxed. If she shifted around and he was jolted into remembering that she was leaning against him, he tensed up.

When the film ended he started to get up and she pulled him back down onto the couch. "Hey."

"What? Aren't we finished for tonight? We've watched a film and had dinner." He was confused.

"James! You're still not totally relaxed," she countered. "The play's tomorrow. We have to remedy this!"

"I am relaxed!" he protested. "You've been lying on me for the past two hours. I can fake date you. Easy."

"No, you can't." Obviously intending to prove her point, Christine sat up totally, then leaned back over and rested her head on his shoulder.

He jumped and cursed himself for doing so. "Damn." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "What can we possibly try now?" He meant the question rhetorically since the evening was now over. When he looked at her she was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "What?"

"How familiar are you with grappling?"

Huh? He managed a slightly more articulate, "I beg your pardon?"

"Grappling," she repeated brightly then at his blank look elaborated. "Ground fighting. Self defence. Any of that?"

He thought deeply for a moment. "I got into a fight once at school and got suspended for popping another boy in the face. Does that count?" By her expression it didn't.

"James. Get on the floor."

That was how he found himself lying flat on his back on the living room floor trying to fend off the twin attentions of the diictodons whilst Christine was _**sitting**_ on his _**chest **_trying to explain how this was supposed to go.

She was getting impatient. "Will you stop playing with your babies?"

"I'm not!" he protested while pushing them away again. Sid and Nancy thought that this was a wonderful new game and bounded back against his head, licking him and trilling.

"Oh for fuck's sake," she huffed and got up.

"Where are you going?" he demanded as she stalked into the kitchen.

"Where does it look like? You've obviously not taught them the command 'leave it'. I'm bribing them." Two seconds later she was back with a bunch of grapes in her hand and was obviously at a sudden loss as to what to call them. If they had been dogs or cats she would have known. He could see her groping for the right words. Puppies. Kitties. Dino's? She tried one. "Dinos? Here, babies." They spotted the grapes in her hand and stopped trying to molest James's hair. She lured them back into the kitchen and dropped the grapes into their bowl.

"Now that they're out of the way," she dropped back down to be sitting on his chest. "We can continue. Have you really only been in one fight in your life?"

He was highly insulted. "There's more to life than getting into fights."

"So yes then?" She didn't wait for him to answer before she started lecturing. "Every fight, if it isn't broken up, ends up on the ground and then the person that knows how to fight on the ground is going to win."

James protested, "How am I supposed to fight from flat on my back with you sitting on me? You're not exactly a light weight." The warning glint in her eye kept him from making another crack about her weight while he kept on complaining. "Not really possible."

"It's completely possible. You're in what's called 'under the mount'." She jabbed her finger into his chest with more force than was strictly needed. "I'm 'on the mount' and this -" She wiggled backwards and shoved his legs apart before he could work out what she was up to. A second later, she was sitting between his legs, hiking them up around her waist and watching him blush brighter than a fire engine. "This is 'in the mount'. Got it?"

His eyes widened and he nodded.

She climbed back up his body to sit on his chest again. "You can win the fight from any of those three positions and I actually like being under the mount the best because then your back's protected."

"Right," James responded in a strangled voice.

"Here's what I want you to do. Jab your elbows into my legs." She demonstrated the moves she wanted him to use.

He did, even though he knew it was in a most half-arsed fashion.

"Now do it again." She grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head.

"Hey!" he yelped and tried to ignore the breasts right in front of his face.

"Are you going to let me keep you here?" she asked when she realised he was frozen.

Abruptly, he yanked one hand free and jabbed his elbow right into her leg, pushing her back. She let go of his other hand and tried to keep her balance as he tried to buck her off.

He didn't get her far enough down on his body, but he tried. For a complete beginner, he knew he was a quick learner as she showed him the other ways to fight from under the mount. She got him locked up in an arm bar a couple of times before he worked out how to be quick enough to resist that one and once when he was in the mount she flipped him so fast he didn't have time to think that he was crouched between her legs.

Sid and Nancy thought it was great fun, the grapes long since devoured. They were darting in and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Sid nearly got flattened by James once when Christine was demonstrating pressure points and he spun completely around when he wasn't expecting a wrist lock to feel **that** painful that fast. It was a very educational lesson and by the end James knew why she hadn't been too worried about walking home from that restaurant the night before.

They only wrestled around for thirty or forty minutes but when she called it quits they were both sweaty and sore.

"I think that's enough for tonight." Christine stood up and offered him a hand up.

He grunted as she pulled him to his feet and winced. "I hope I won't be limping tomorrow."

"Take a nice hot shower, you'll limber up soon enough. We should have stretched first." Christine gathered up her purse and scratched Sid and Nancy one last time on her way to the door. "I had a lovely evening." She laid her hand on his arm and leaned in just a little, probably just to see what he would do.

He stiffened.

He knew what he'd done instantly and cursed.

So did she. "Damn it, James. What else are we going to have to do to get you to relax?"

"I have no idea," he despaired. "I just can't seem to relax totally around you." Now he glared. At her, "I blame you. Years of feuding."

"You blame me? What about you?" she countered as their history together flashed back into her mind, "Who exactly gave that order in Cairo?" Christine stopped herself before taking a trip down memory lane with him. "Wait, we can't fight about this now. We have to fix this or we're both screwed tomorrow." She pressed her hand to her forehead and was obviously trying to think.

He groaned at himself and his nervous reactions. "I'll put the kettle on."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A cup of tea can fix many things but it can't make a solution appear instantly. So they had another cup of tea. It was halfway through the second cup that he saw the first twinkling of a plan start to percolate through her brain.

"I've got it!" She looked triumphant. "You aren't going to like it, but I know how to fix your jumpiness."

"What?" At that point he would have done anything, except more grappling. His back was still twinging and his elbow was stinging from that pressure point demonstration.

"I notice that when you're occupied with something, you relax. It's only when you're suddenly reminded that I'm here and that I'm me that you tense up."

That was hardly helpful. "Yes? So what am I going to do, take a nice crossword with me to the theatre?" He always enjoyed taking refuge in sarcasm.

"No, James. We're going to sleep together."

He nearly fell off his chair in shock. "Did you just say what I think you just said?"

"I said sleep, not sex," she elaborated. "In the same bed. I think that you just need more time around me and frankly this is the only thing I can think of."

He groaned and remembered how she had cautioned him to do whatever it was he normally did when a girl was coming over. Looks like he should have changed the sheets after all. "Did you plan this?" he demanded irritably.

"No!" She seemed highly insulted. "I didn't know you were this... uncomfortable around women! It's really making me wonder."

He glared.

She smiled.

He glared some more.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

So after that second cup of tea he found himself of standing in his bedroom with her right behind him digging out a pair of pajamas for her to use. She raised an eyebrow when he handed the black silk jacket and trousers but she didn't say anything. He showed her to the second bathroom and for some reason she giggled when she saw the basket full to the brim of hotel toiletries he had collected.

"Towel's in the cupboard, um...right. I'll leave you to it." He fled.

He came back out of his bathroom just as she walked into the bedroom. She didn't know it, but he had only just finished changing the sheets for fresh ones and making the bed back up. She walked over to the far side of the king-sized bed and slid in. She snuggled in and luxuriated in it for a minute. He knew his bed was cozy. He watched as she ran a hand over the sheets. Her own sheets were probably much nicer, but James didn't think his bedroom as too bad.

There was a bookshelf built into the wall on her side of the bed. She looked over the titles and seemed surprised to see several self-help titles. 'Fake your way in Mandarin' caught her eye along with 'The millionaire next door' and 'Seven secrets of highly successful people'. There was also a section of fiction. She seemed surprised by his taste for adventure fiction like the Dirk Pitt series and his fondness for Terry Pratchett. She got out of bed and grabbed a Tom Clancy

"Making yourself at home I see," he commented dourly as he got into the bed, to cover up his embarrassment at having his reading habits laid bare before his old enemy. Like her, he was wearing black silk pajamas that buttoned up the front and covered him from ankles to neck. She was on his side of the bed but he wasn't about to make her move. She didn't do anything except turn the page. He laid back and tried to relax. He couldn't. This was such a stupid idea. "Good night Christine."

"Good night, James." She clicked off the lamp on her side of the bed and snuggled under the covers up to her chin.

o-o-o-o-o-o

It was the smell that weaved its way into his mind, the faint scent of lavender that had him snuggling in closer to his blanket. Warm and soft. He went further into his dream and started kissing impossibly soft skin. He hadn't had a wet dream this vivid in years.

He felt himself get hard and he rolled on top of his quilt. Instincts took over and he started to slowly rub himself against a warm body. The tantalizing feeling of hands roaming over his body only added to the sensations. He grabbed the one that was clutching his hip and pinned it up on the pillow, still falling into the soft, soft lips of his dream-woman.

o-o-o-o-o-o

It was the heat of a man that started her sleeping mind going down that path. She reached out and pulled the quilt on top of her and fantasised that he wanted her. The fantasy was working. She opened her mouth and felt a convenient fold in her quilt in just the right place to kiss. It had been so long since she'd kissed a man. She pulled the coverlet close and sent her hands roaming over it.

The sensation of a horny man rubbing against her core had her moaning in her sleep and gripping the quilt. Suddenly her hand was pinned up by her head and another hand slipped under her shirt and cupped her breast. She moaned again and arched her hips against the quilt and didn't wonder how it was possible to have a dream this vivid. Her hand clenched what felt like a man's arse and the faintest thread of curiosity wove itself into her mind while she was in that hazy place between asleep and awake.

o-o-o-o-o-o

He closed his hand around one perfect breast and rolled his thumb over the jutting, erect nipple. The moan that drew made him do it again, and again. Now the bunched-up quilt was thrusting against him, making his cock throb with desire. He ran his mouth down the neck of his dream-woman and sucked eagerly on her smooth skin. Now that his mouth wasn't muffling her moans they finally started penetrated into his conscience mind.

Quilts didn't moan.

o-o-o-o-o-o

She was writhing with desire and arching against him when he started nibbling on her throat, little nips and sucks that had her clenching her hands, one against his hand and the other on his arse, pulling him closer. There were only a few thin pieces of silk separating them and she wanted them gone. He kept bumping himself against her and she wrapped her legs around him. Something about that distracted her from her dream-man. A quilt shouldn't be that solid, or that warm or have that spicy male smell.

She opened her eyes.

o-o-o-o-o-o

He opened his eyes.

It was the sheer shock of what he saw sleepily looking up at him that kept him from moving for a moment. Dark brown eyes, with little light flecks like honey completely mesmerized him. Then he realized his hand was somehow under her shirt holding her breast and her hand was somehow under his pants clutching his bare arse. The fact that her legs were wrapped around him and he was keeping her other hand pinned on the pillow, with their fingers laced together just added to his completely paralysing shock.

It was her lips quirking up in a lazy smile that broke the spell.

James gasped out, "Bloody hell," and rolled off of her and laid flat on his back, trying to ignore the raging hard on in his pajama bottoms. She was going to kill him. He closed his eyes and waited for the fatal blow to fall. She was going to kill him and after the evening before, he knew she could do it with her bare hands.

What she actually said completely confused the hell out of him.

"I'm halfway tempted to tell you to get back over here and finish what you start." She stretched then gave a short laugh. "I imagine if I touch your arm now you won't twitch!"

"You did say to treat you like a girlfriend," he pointed out cautiously, not really believing that she wasn't going to go ballistic on him. "You insisted on sleeping in the same bed." She was probably trying to lull him into a false sense of security.

"I know," she replied ruefully as she scrubbed her face with her hands. "I know."

"Should I keep that up then?" he asked, trying not to sound worried.

"Treating me like a girlfriend? Yes."

He hadn't expected to be fed quite such a perfect opening. He pointed theatrically at the door. "Get in there and make me some breakfast!"

He wasn't at all surprised when her pillow came down on his head.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

She got up after pummeling him with the pillow for a minute, and went to change and presumably to get her hormones under control. James waited until she was gone before hurrying into the loo to take care of the result of his little morning adventure.

When he emerged into the rest of the house, he discovered that she hadn't followed his directions beyond making some coffee, but she had let the diictodons out. Sid was waiting when he came out of his bedroom and started his hopping and headbutting for breakfast.

"You could have fed them if you were going to let them out," he complained as he walked into the kitchen.

She set down the cup of coffee she had been drinking. "Can't, I've got to get home and change before work."

So it seemed she wasn't going to say anything about it. That was probably for the best.

"Tonight then?"

"Yes. Pick me up at six."

She knocked back the last of her coffee. "We'll get something to eat before the show," Christine said decisively.

It seemed like she was going to just pick up her bag and whirl out of his flat but at the last minute she walked over to him and leaned in. He watched her warily, but didn't jump or tense up.

"It seems that was just what you needed." She leaned in and brushed a kiss on his cheek, then smiled when she saw the tiniest hint of a blush appear on his cheeks. "I had a lovely time."

Before he could say anything else she slipped out of the door.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Much Ado About Something 3/3

Summery: The Home Secretary's recently divorced daughter is on the prowl again. She's decided she wants her third husband to have a title and Sir James Lester has no other option than to fight fire with fire.

Spoilers for series 1-3.

Rating: T and M in chapter 2.

Disclaimer: I don't own Primeval

A/N: This plot bunny hopped into my brain and I had to get it out. I'd like to thank the lovely Fredbassett for beta'ing this for me. All remain mistakes are totally my own.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Work was... work. It wasn't nearly as interesting as managing the chaos of the ARC but very few things were. The scientists and computer technicians he was in charge of weren't nearly as insane as Cutter and his merry band. James tried not to dwell on how much he missed what he'd once had.

He pulled up outside her house at exactly six o'clock. She wasn't waiting outside. Damn woman. James went up and knocked on the door. Dimly from inside the house he heard her yell for him to come in. He tried the door and found it open.

"I'm nearly ready," she shouted. "I'll be out in a minute. Make yourself at home."

He pursed his lips and settled down on the sofa. He turned the television on and discovered that the last thing she had been watching was a cookery programme. That was interesting, he could tease her about that. A woman's natural place and all that.

Ten minutes later, she came into the living room and his jaw dropped. She was wearing a brilliant red dress with a plunging neckline that emphasized her naturally curvy body. She'd curled her hair into big waves and it framed her face beautifully.

"What do you think?" She twirled. "James?"

He realised he was staring. What had happened to the woman who'd worn those concealing suits? Who knew she had such a hot body? That thought jolted his attention to early that morning and he got totally distracted.

She seemed to like the fact that he hadn't answered him yet. "James?"

"You look beautiful," he said, trying to ignore the pull in his groin and the memory of her body under his. "Truly."

Her face lit up in a grin, "Thank you." She slipped on some shoes with very low heels, presumably picked out especially so that she wouldn't tower over him the way she usually preferred, and picked up a tiny little beaded handbag. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

They got in the car and he realised that he had no idea where they were going for dinner. "Where are we eating?"

"There's a little Chinese place near the theatre district. They're fast." She gave him directions and they settled into companionable silence for the drive.

It wasn't until they had placed their orders that something occurred to him. "What if he asks when we started dating? We've got to get a story going, he knows that we hate each other." It was a very odd thing for the people on the next table to overhear if they were listening and it was going to get weirder.

"I don't know." He could see her start to think frantically. "He's most certainly not going to believe we suddenly fell into each other's arms."

The problem had them both stumped for a minute. Their soup arrived before a loose idea started take shape in James's brain. "What if we didn't know? What if we were set up on a blind date?"

She was skeptical and immediately started poking crater-sized holes in his idea. "Why would either of us stay once we'd discovered who the date was? Who would set us up? Anyone that knows both of us knows that we have a very longstanding dislike of each other."

"It was just an idea," he groused dourly. "Have you got a better one?"

He was surprised when she tried to smooth his ruffled feathers. "It has possibilities once we remove the extra person from the problem. What if we found each other on a dating website?"

He scoffed. "Please."

"No really, suppose you were on London Singles and it matched you with me?"

"Why would I go out with you from a stupid dating website? And can we please come up with something that doesn't make me sound so pathetic and creepy?"

"You wouldn't use your real name, obviously." She ignored his other objection, then relented. "I would be on there too, so we would be equally pathetic. Dating websites aren't creepy unless you're pretending to be a thirteen year old."

"I still think they're creepy." He sighed but he didn't have a better idea. "Fine. Keep talking." Their food arrived as they hashed out the story. It was a nice, relaxing meal. He noticed that she completely ignored the fork and was using chopsticks. "Show off," he commented idly, just before picking up his own set.

She looked like she didn't know what he was talking about for a minute. "Oh? This? I spent five or six years in Hong Kong when I was a kid. I had to learn to eat with chopsticks or starve."

He chuckled.

O-o-o-o-o-o

James paid the bill without her having to drop hints about fake-dating and escorted her out of the restaurant with one hand on her back, like a normal boyfriend.

"Get your game face on," she warned him as he found a parking space surprisingly close to the theater. Just before Christine got out of the car she caught a familiar sharp face and blonde head in the back of the car behind them. Even at the distance she was positive she'd just seen Angelica. Her wicked sense of humor rose to the surface.

James evidently hadn't noticed who was behind them when he walked over to where she was waiting on the curb. Christine kept her body turned so that the Jacksons didn't see who she was when she slid her arms up around his neck. She leaned in and threaded her hands through his hair and pulled his head down. He reached around and rested his hands on her hips, clearly intensely curious at what she was playing at.

"Don't panic," she breathed when her lips were bare millimeters from him. Then she kissed him and his eyes fluttered closed briefly before opening again in surprise as she slipped him a little tongue.

o-o-o-o-o-o

He tasted cherry lip gloss. The sound of a throat clearing behind him made him look up enough see his boss, and host, the Home Secretary, standing just a few feet away. His wife was beside him looking delighted and Angelica looked as if she could chew steel and spit nails before her pointy face smoothed out to her normal stingy expression.

"Oi!"

James yelped and jumped and felt the tips of ears go red. Christine turned around and tried to look embarrassed.

"Aren't you going to introduce us to your date?" Angelica said frostily to James.

He smoothed his shirt briefly and was acutely aware of Christine's subtle perfume on him. He devoutly hoped he didn't have lipstick on his face. "Of course. This is Christine Johnson. Christine, I believe you know the Home Secretary-"

o-o-o-o-o-o

"Yes." She met his gaze boldly and tried not to think about standing in his office while that damn recording was played off his computer and the ensuing dressing down. She hadn't been chewed out that badly in years.

Completely oblivious to her momentary discomfort, James carried on, "This is Mrs. Jackson, and their daughter Angelica."

They all shook and made the appropriate 'pleased to meet you' noises and as they joined the crowd walking into the theatre Mrs Jackson urged Christine to call her Caroline as none of them were standing on ceremony.

The Home Secretary clapped James on the back and said, "I was so certain you would call me and tell me that you had the flu or some silly thing. I can't believe you actually have a girlfriend." He lowered his voice and let the three women get a few steps ahead of them, although Christine could still make out his words as he said, "Especially that one. You'll have to tell me the story behind that."

"Of course."

It went wonderfully. Christine found the time to do a little research and she bonded right away with Caroline Jackson over a mutual admiration of the lead actor, David Tennant.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Angelica slowed down until she was behind the others. She gritted her teeth and kept her eyes glued to the other couple, searching for some sign of weakness. She'd had her eyes on James since before she made her two previous mistakes. She swore to herself that if she had just picked him to begin with it all would have worked out. He had a title! Why the hell had she ignored him?

It would never in a million years occur to her that he had most definitely passed on her. She knew she was beautiful. She knew if she could just get him to really look at her and realize what a wonderful opportunity he had to trade up then all her problems would be solved.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

They made their way up to the box section and got settled in. Christine seemed to notice that there was space for one more in the area. "Angelica, why didn't you bring a date?" She made sure she sounded mildly curious and nothing more.

James went slightly pale as he was suddenly immersed in the world of female cattiness.

"He canceled," the blonde woman said shortly. Her father looked at her oddly. Christine presumed that Angelica hadn't mentioned anything about bringing a date and had probably been very upset when he'd told her that James had planned to bring a plus one.

"How sad," Christine commented idly as she sat down. There were two rows each of three chairs in the box. She happened to be the first one in the box so she took the chair the farthest from the door. James went to sit beside her and that gave Angelica the opportunity to sit on his other side. Oh dear.

Angelica laid her arm on his and started to point out the various features of the historic old theatre, presumably to show off how educated and cultured she was. Christine merely hummed along and got deeply immersed in conversation with Caroline Jackson about the various actors in the play. They didn't have to spend too long making small talk before the lights dimmed and the show started.

o-o-o-o-o-o

James felt Christine brush her foot against him. He knew what she was hinting at. He pushed the armrest up from between their seats and casually slung an arm around her. Angelica didn't take the hint and kept her hand resting on his. It was a damn good thing they'd practiced sitting together. As soon as the lights went all the way off, Christine leaned herself against him and snuggled into his side. It would be highly unsettling if they hadn't done so much else that was more disturbing.

Angelica obviously noticed the other woman cuddling up against what she saw as her chosen man and she leaned in a bit as well, with a little flip of her hair to send a bit of her no doubt expensive perfume floating his way. James suddenly noticed the overwhelming flowery smell from her direction. He coughed quietly and tried to focus on the play.

He imagined Christine had noticed it as well and he saw her small smile. She was going to have to fight for her fake-date but he knew she loved a challenge and was never opposed to a little fighting. Especially if it got a bit dirty and underhanded.

o-o-o-o-o-o

During the intermission, all the woman did as expected and retired to the loo. They weren't close enough to be in first so they ended up in line, slowly inching their way forward.

"So Christine," Angelica said with total innocence in her voice. "How did you and James meet again? We've known each other for simply ages but he's never mentioned you before."

Her mother perked up also, eager to hear the answer. Christine would have been surprised to learn that James had been to many of her dinner parties and she would have almost certainly got used to relying on being able to seat him next to some lady or other.

Christine merely quirked her lips up as she carefully phrased her answer. "We've known each other for ages as well, also at work. The idea of dating didn't cross our minds until recently."

Angelica narrowed her eyes. "How recently?" She tapped one of her perfectly manicured nails up against her lip.

"A few months." Now they were up to the stalls and the conversation stopped, only to be picked up again a minute later while they were washing their hands.

"So how serious are you? I didn't know James was even seeing anyone." Angelica was fishing for details and wondering how much of a chance she still had to steal him away.

Christine laughed. "Serious enough. It's such a pity your date canceled. It's always hard being the odd one out."

They exchanged mean girl smiles as they walked back into the box. Christine could see that Caroline was hiding her own smile as she accompanied the two younger woman. Unlike her husband, Christine was certain she knew why her daughter was so annoyed dear James had showed up with a girlfriend.

She might even be thinking that it was refreshing to see someone rubbing her daughters nose in it. From the intelligence Christine had gathered, Caroline Jackson had liked her previous son-in-laws and it was a good guess that she didn't want to see James go the same way, discarded when Angelica decided she could do better.

The men, of course, were oblivious to the hostile atmosphere from the two woman. As Christine slipped into the seat next to James, Caroline settled herself down beside her husband and prepared to watch the rest of the show... and the play.

James was evidently relaying how they started out. "-So I sat down at a table in the pub and I did a double take at who was staring back at me. Imagine my surprise." He grinned at them all and it was so odd to see him so relaxed instead of glowering at everyone like he normally did.

Christine picked up the story that they had made up only two hours before. "Your surprise? Imagine my surprise that the man I had been emailing for weeks was you!" She leaned in and brushed a kiss across his cheek.

Caroline broke in, "I must have missed something...?"

Her husband caught her up. "They 'met'-" he made the obnoxious finger quotes in the air, "on that dating website they advertise on the television late at night."

"That's right," James confirmed for Caroline's benefit. "Neither one of us was using our real name because of our jobs but once all the extra work-related drama was stripped away, we really had a lot in common."

He chuckled. "That didn't stop me from panicking once I saw who 'Alice Peterson' really was." James sighed happily and really started to get into character. Christine was most impressed by his performance. "But I was there and I thought I might as well have one drink with her before I left. One drink turned into dinner and well...here we are." To Christine's amazement, he somehow managed to say that without sugar cubes falling from his lips.

"How romantic!" Caroline burst out. "That's so sweet. Don't you agree, Angelica?"

The blonde nodded and watched as her chosen man was stolen away from her by what she clearly thought of as some trumped up tart. But right then, James only had eyes for Christine and he didn't see the flash of pure hatred and anger that crossed her face. Christine did, just out of the corner of her eye and she felt quite a buzz of pleasure at knowing she had won the dominant chick fight.

o-o-o-o-o-o

The only thing James noticed was that he didn't have Angelica casually resting her arm on his but Christine was still leaning on him like she had been. Could there have been a breakthrough while they were in the ladies?

There must have been. He was glad that was sorted. James relaxed totally and enjoyed the rest of the play.

It really was a good show and they joined the rest of the crowd in giving a standing ovation before slowly making their way outside.

"That was fabulous. Truly fabulous." Caroline and Christine gushed to each other about how wonderful the show was. The two men exchanged a look that said it all on the subject of women. Angelica trailed along behind them all, frantically texting someone, probably about how unfair life was to deny her the next perfect man.

"I had a lovely time, darling." Caroline hugged Christine goodbye. "We simply must do this again."

"Of course, just call me. You've got my number? I heard a rumor that Matt Smith was going to be in the new production of 'Casanova' in the autumn."

Christine was busy bonding away with her new friend while James went to fetch the car. They were still discussing the upcoming theatre schedule and he was pretty sure they had made a date for some ballet he had never heard of before by the time he opened the door for her.

"Darling?" he called out to her, "You'll have make a date another time, we're holding up the traffic."

Jackson guffawed at Lester's dry tone and Christine tossed him a cool, but mischievous look. They said their good byes and even Angelica made herself behave long enough to wish them a nice night.

"That went wonderfully." James was very chuffed when they finally got away.

"Of course it did," she grinned. "I was involved."

They fell into a comfortable silence on the way back to her house. All too soon he pulled up in her driveway.

"Well," he said, not really sure where he was going with this now. "Thanks for saving me. If they ever do restart the ARC, I will definitely call you."

"Yes. I had a nice time, and I really did want to see that play."

As the silence stretched out he wondered if she was thinking about inviting him in for some tea... and so he started to talk again. "Well, I'd better go, doubtless those two bottomless pits will be wanting to be fed again."

He thought he caught a brief flash of disappointment on her face, but she hid it swiftly. "Right. Well. See you around."

"Yes, see you around."

He waited in the driveway until she slipped in the front door, wondering if there wasn't something else he should have said.

"Damn it all," he cursed and went home, confused and not liking it.

Sid and Nancy were acting like they were starving when he got back and so it was after midnight before he managed to herd them into their room. Afterwards, he went into his bedroom. He could smell the tiniest trace of her perfume. It was hard to believe all that had gone on only that morning. He had the sudden urge to call her and ask exactly what she'd meant when she'd said she had a lovely time.

He picked up his phone and looked at her number. Did the past three days mean anything? Had it all been just for show? What if she laughed at him and shot him down? He was not going to look desperate and pathetic to her. He put the phone down.

o-o-o-o-o-o

At her house she was lying awake in bed, thinking of the bed she had woken up in. She picked up her phone and looked at his number. He was a fabulous kisser, but suppose he'd only really wanted her for that date? What if he would rather be alone than with her? That would be completely humiliating.

She put the phone down.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The End


End file.
